Eden’s Labor   Glaring at the rusty clock, measuring minutes between her contractions with such a fragile hand she wrote them. Her pain would be no more.   Groping into the dark of night, beginning the thirtieth hour. no warrior could fathom such a strength…

While strategically placing my lipstick, I caught a glance of the clock. Its 2:29. Damn that brings me back to the times….. Remember how you would hold my face in your hands when we kissed? Do you remember how I would sing to you or…